Rest in Pieces
by sparzelli
Summary: Peter, Darcy and the lies that bind.


**A/N: **Season seven. If it seems like I don't like Spinner, I do. And I made up the screen names because I couldn't remember the real ones. Also: don't assume things have/haven't happened yet, because this is an AU. Everything changes! And uh…they're juniors in high school here (I don't know if they were or weren't in the actual season seven, so…)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Degrassi or any other copyrighted materials.

**Soundtrack:** All the Same; Sick Puppies

* * *

**I : **I don't mind where you come from as long as you come to me

* * *

The first time he sees her he can already tell she's a high-maintenance princess. The way she carries herself - shoulders high and hair constantly being flipped over her shoulder - gives it away, unless you see the spirit squad uniform first.

Peter notices the subtle forward thrust of her body, the curve of her stomach and hips, the gently sloping planes of her face, but most of all he notices how she looks at him, too. They watch each other over the computers in Media Studies and sometimes he hopes she'll magically IM him, but nothing ever pops up.

Her name is Darcy Edwards.

He gives her the special look he used to save for Emma, and she either knows what's up or just acts like she does and it gives him some breathtaking hope for something he doesn't really want to identify. (It's not healthy and probably not safe but it's his haven anyway.)

When the weeks pass and the weather gets colder, he watches her start coming to school in jeans and boots and he curses the gods for making her cover up the legs that go on for miles, until he sees her jackets. She starts out in a big puffy parka with the hood pulled over her face. She'll unwrap her scarf and unzip her jacket and sometimes he imagines she's unzipping her clothes for him, and then he sees her look at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and the too-big jacket and the way she looks makes him realize she's a little fragile.

Peter doesn't want to have anything to do with her, but when he sees her chatting up Spinner he's inexplicably furious and it won't fade until she shoots him down. It takes days for it to hit him that if Spinner isn't good enough for her (come on, it's _Spinner_) then he probably isn't up to her standards either.

So he settles for watching her with her too-big parka and long, long hair and blissful ignorance in Media Studies.

Sometimes she smiles, sometimes she waves, but most of the time she doesn't really do anything at all.

--

The first time he talks to her she already knows who he is and what he's proud of. The way he carries himself – shoulders high and hair constantly being flicked out of his eyes – gives it away, unless you see the dirty looks Emma or Manny cast him in the halls first.

He posts himself beside her locker and it doesn't look like he'll leave unless she talks to him, so she holds her breath and dives in.

"Hello, Peter," she says lightly. His eyes stay glued to her hands as she efficiently switches books in and out of the shelves in her locker and she knows what he's thinking, because her daddy and her church taught her well. (She knows what a girl's hands are capable of and wishes she could work her way into that little world, but it's not going to happen.)

"Darcy, right?"

She gives him a skeptical look. "Don't tell me you still don't know my name after all these weeks?

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head at her like he's trying to bury his thoughts into her soul, and he responds in a frustrated tone. (It's barely been two sentences and they've already begun a game.)

"Okay, that was a lie. I know your name." She smiles and nods approvingly. (Good boy.) "But not much of anything else, it seems…"

She lets her locker click shut, but the sound doesn't reach her ears. "What are you getting at?"

He smiles at her, and his smile is so _so_ nice, it breaks her heart a little-

"Go out with me," he demands. Her breath catches in her throat and she watches him closely. (His king is moving in on her pawn and she's never felt more trapped.)

"Do you have some sort of ulterior motive?"

"Uh…what are you talking about?"

She shakes her head. "Defense mechanisms 101. I know about Emma, and Manny, just so you know. I'm not interested in being another girl in a long line of people that you've screwed over." She starts to walk away and a nasty churning begins in the bottom of her stomach as she feels him staring at her retreating figure.

--

If he didn't want her before (which he did), than now he most certainly does (tenfold). And in the worst way, too.

A week later he gets her screen name from Spinner and decides that he should try his hand at getting with her again.

(Here's what bothers him the most: he likes to be in control of things in his life, and she isn't giving him a chance to predict or control _anything_. He's a little bit reckless, but the secret is that he plans it all out, and hey-that doesn't really make him that reckless at all, does it?)

**shampain:** Hello again ;)

**burningheart: **Who is this?

**shampain:** Guess.

She looks up over the computer and her eyes sweep the classroom until they land on his, watching her intensely and her eyes bug slightly. Startled, she moves back to her keyboard.

**burningheart: **_Peter?_ Seriously? Who gave you my screen name?

**shampain:** Not telling. And by the way, how'd you come up with it? It makes you sound a little emo, if you don't mind me saying.

She huffs into the silent classroom and he stifles a chuckle.

**burningheart: **It's a long and personal story that I might tell you if you ever stop being a_ jerk_.

**shampain:** And you're also a fan of the _italics_, I see…

**shampain: **…

**shampain:** Okay, I'm sorry Darcy.

He looks up to see her staring at the ceiling and this time he can't hold back a laugh.

**burningheart: **You think you're so funny, but you really aren't. And just where'd you get _your_ screen name?

**shampain:** Italicssss…it's from that Fall Out Boy song. You know? 'Champagne for my Real Friends, Real Pain for my Sham Friends'?

**burningheart: **Oh. Cute.

**shampain: **…thanks, I guess.

**burningheart: **So what do you really want?

**shampain: **I already told you. I want to know more about you.

**burningheart: **By online stalking me?

**shampain: **What? No. I want you to go out with me.

She's staring at the ceiling, again.

**shampain: **I won't accept no for an answer, you know.

She looks at him with sad eyes and he almost feels bad for pushing her (almost), and then he remembers who he is and what he's done and it's nothing new. So he stops feeling anything.

**burningheart:** One date won't hurt, I guess. But if you mess with me I'll-

**shampain: **Sic the friendship club on me?

**burningheart: **Not likely, Peter. I'll never talk to you again.

**shampain: **What a loss. My heart's breaking.

**burningheart: **Look, do you want this date or not? _You're_ the one that wanted to get to know _me._

**shampain:** Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Chill. I'll be good.

**burningheart:** Yeah, yeah. You don't have to lie to me.

Darcy smiles at him genuinely even though it doesn't reach her eyes and he feels a little piece of his heart crack and break off into the oblivion.

**

* * *

**

**II :** I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly

* * *

Of all places to take her, he brings her to the park. But really, he just wants to see if she'll wear the ridiculous parka so he can look at her waddle around with her pink cheeks and big eyes. Instead she wears a black North Face jacket and a plaid hat he hates.

So when he's done being awkward as hell dragging her around through the cold, they stop at The Dot and he buys her hot chocolate. She smiles at him and they sit on the couch (an annoyingly appropriate distance apart) and that's when it all starts. (You know, the beginning of the end? He thinks he should recognize it by now, but she has that effect on him.)

He watches her fiddle with her bra strap for a moment and he feels a wicked yearn in the back of his mind. She looks up at him after a moment of silence and blows air through her teeth.

"You should be a model," he drawls lazily. "You have the perfect…face for it."

She smiles a little. "Thanks. I've modeled a little before, but…I don't know. It's not for me." He tilts his head and his eyes trace her collarbone.

"So then what are you into?"

"Church," she replies almost immediately. His eyes snap to her and he watches the familiar vermilion bleed across her cheeks as she shakes her head a little. "I mean…I like music and stuff. I like surfing the web and shopping and spirit squad, and lots of things normal teenage girls like."

He smirks. "Unique. I knew I saw something in you."

She returns with a scowl. "I like cranberry juice with lemon poppy seed muffins. And sometimes I stay up late to watch reruns of Jackass just to laugh."

He freezes a little. (Isn't this what he was fishing for?)

"I read books under the covers at night with flashlights after I'm supposed to be asleep. I took a vow of abstinence. My favorite pastime is dancing in the rain. Sometimes I walk home from school just to breathe."

He watches her face as she goes through her internal lists and something clicks into place inside of him.

(Isn't this what he was waiting for?)

He only notices after she tells him she likes eggs sunny side up just because of the optimism it implies that now their thighs are touching and she's warm as can be.

**

* * *

**

**III :** You've shown me eventually what you'll do, and I wouldn't dare to fix the twist in you

* * *

Darcy sees the looks. She knows he's asking her all sorts of questions and only hanging around because he's so desperate for something different, and in some sick way she's hoping to satiate that desperation. (It's a self-esteem problem.) It's not even a game anymore. It's like a big joke – to him and her and everybody who can see what's happening. He watches her move and she watches his face when he thinks nobody's looking and she knows exactly who he is.

But he doesn't see her. Despite the random tidbits she (sort of) wishes she hadn't told him, he barely knows her. She's Darcy the church girl with the abstinence ring (why the hell did she bring that up, anyway?) and the boring past. Nothing is interesting about her. But he sticks around anyway.

On the weekends he always takes her to the park and then buys her something from The Dot, and pretty soon she's had everything on the menu. They make a little list and rate everything from 1 to 5, and while she gives everything high marks (it's not lies, really) he gives only the hot chocolate a 5.

For Christmas she reveals she has a bad habit of knitting and makes him two scarves to match his hats. He buys her a little key necklace and proclaims it's the key to his heart and inside she wants to absorb him whole and stay that way forever. (It's that sweet.)

He turns her around with his big hands burning on her shoulders and he brings the clasps together with a content sigh.

When his fingers brush over her collarbone she shivers.

"You're cold," he says quietly. His voice sends shudders through her body and goose bumps pop up on her arms (as if just to prove his point). He slips out of his jacket and lets her wear it, and they both conveniently forget she has it.

When he tells her she looks sexy in his coat she hits him in the shoulder (hard) and he only replies with "you'd look even hotter with it on my bedroom floor!"

She buys him a new one for his birthday the following week. She hates when he does that, but it's who he is; she knows. And who is she to change anything about him?

**

* * *

**

**IV :** As long as you're here

* * *

When the weather warms up again it's time for her birthday and this time Peter takes her out on an actual date. She wears a pretty white sundress and they go somewhere that's not The Dot and he pulls out her chair and opens the door for her. He read up on being a gentleman once and although none of it has come in handy so far, with Darcy (the church girl) he has to get creative.

She looks so pretty it makes his insides tie into knots and an ache burns deep inside. He tries to ignore it, but she's _hot_. (Italics? What?)

"Thank you, Peter. It's really nice of you to bring me here," she says sweetly once the waiter has taken drink orders. It's weird that she isn't drinking hot chocolate, but it's not cold anymore. And this isn't The Dot. He sighs internally at the loss of the parka.

"It's your birthday. I'm lucky you shared yourself with me today."

She smiles and narrows her eyes a little. "I'm not sharing anything, today," she sips at her (cranberry) juice and he smirks.

"If only."

She shakes her head. "Cut it out, Peter…"

He obliges, but only because the weather forecast called for rain.

--

When he's walking Darcy to her house the rain begins. Not the nice, sprinkling kind, but the pouring kind that makes you think heaven is crying. Darcy screams and giggles and he laughs despite the relief he feels from finally, _finally _being able tosee more skin. Her dress is nearly transparent by the time they reach her front door and Darcy invites him inside.

"Peter, come on; get out of the rain," she giggles. She slams the door behind her and he shakes his hair out like a dog. She flicks on a light switch and nothing happens.

"Shoot, the power's out…" she mumbles. He holds his hands up in an unusual act of defiance.

"Darce, wait. Aren't your parents home? Your sister?"

She shakes her head. "Church retreat. I had a big English project to do this weekend, so I stayed at home to finish it."

His eyes bug a little at the idea of her actually letting him inside her house when it's nobody but them. She's not stupid, he knows. But doesn't she know who he is?

He advances with a smirk as she lights a triangle of cream-colored candles on a table. "Aren't you afraid of me taking advantage of you?" he says huskily. She drops the blackened match in her hand and whips around so fast he almost gets hit in the face with her sopping hair. His hands sneak out to grip her waist and his fingers tingle at the feeling of her, so close…

Her chest is heaving and he's having the hardest time not looking at it, slick with water. (Instead, he's watching his fingers dig into her torso.) She eyes him carefully and backs up a little.

And then he realizes that she trusts him.

He lets his hands fall and a strange look comes over his face as he watches her. He's not used to…trust.

"What?" she says quickly. Her hands fly up to her cheek. "Is there something on my face?" She pushes at her nose and her eyebrows furrow together. "Peter, if I look retarded or something and you're not telling me-"

He shakes his head vigorously. "No, no, Darcy you look fine. It's…" He steps forward and holds his palms up to her. "You trust me."

It's a statement, not a question, and she nods along with the assumption. A true smile breaks over his face and she can't help but smile back, and he brushes hair back behind her ear.

He gently pulls her to him until her soaking body is pressed against him and he kisses her, all the while thinking about abstinence and photographs and the bad things he's done. She reminds him of sunshine and tastes like sugar and it's a little too much, but he's never been one to stop himself. (And who ever said he was getting in too deep, anyway? Oh, right: he did.)

**

* * *

**

**V : **Go ahead and tell me you'll leave again, you'll just come back running

* * *

It's been three months and they're nearing summer. She's been on a ridiculous relationship high and she's always preparing for when it leaves, but so far she's been lucky. When she sees Peter and he smiles at her she still gives him her favorite smile back, and he still makes her shiver when he presses his chin into her shoulder just right.

His hands on her stomach still drive her crazy and she knows just how to touch him to make him squirm.

It's new territory and a little scary, but she figures she's okay with it. Sometimes they fight and sometimes they argue, but when someone runs away they mostly (always) come back. It's a pattern (like a game, right?) and she's so comfortable sometimes she forgets who she is anymore.

And it goes on, and on, and on, until-

She's coming out of Math one day and he's talking to the new girl, Mia. Mia twirls her hair and bats her eyes at him and it feels like her heart has consumed battery acid, because Peter has his hand on the wall above her head like Mia _means_ something. She's tearing up at the idea of him IMing another girl, taking her to The Dot and rating the drinks and letting her get soaked in white dresses and making her spill secrets she never meant to tell. (He's sneaky like that.)

She wishes she could believe their relationship was more than that, but deep down inside she always knew the foundation they laid upon was slightly cracked and broken. She fingers a bruise on her arms and turns to leave the school, mind already made up.

--

He sees her retreating back for what must be the hundredth time in their relationship.

(She always seems to be the one to do the walking, and he thinks something must have happened to her that makes her leave before she gets hurt first-but he knows the damage is already done by the way Mia is whistling through her teeth and leaving in a flurry. And it's not like he knows everything about Darcy, really - he doesn't. They're carefree and fun and somewhere along the way it started to be so much more, but it's probably just him.)

He jogs after her and grabs her arm right when she reaches the door and in a typical Darcy move, she yanks it from his grip and shoves him backwards.

"You could have had the decency to let me down easy, if you were going to chat up the new girl," she spits. Her eyes are shiny and he knows he's really done it this time (done what, exactly?) and however it may have been, it looked horrible to her. (He was just introducing himself, or telling Mia about the school, or whatever.)

"Darce, I-"

"Don't call me Darce!"

"Okay, fine! _Darcy_, I was just telling Mia about the school. You don't have to jump to so many damn conclusions," he finishes in a mutter. She narrows her eyes and pokes him in the chest (hard.)

"Don't lie to me, Peter." (Where has he heard that before?) "I know who you are. When you get done with a girl you move on without even giving them a second glance. I know how it works, okay?"

"Not true. I look at Manny all the time."

She has the most offended look on her face he has ever seen and, well, that probably wasn't the best thing to say in the middle of _this _argument.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Why are you being like this? You mean a lot to me and you know that," he glowers. She fumes silently and her eyes dart to a student escaping through the door beside her.

She rocks on her feet and clenches her fist. "I know what I saw, okay? I know I'm right."

He stares at her incredulously and can't believe that everything they had meant so little that she's willing to throw it away over something she 'thinks she saw'. He thinks Mia's hot, definitely, but a baby mama isn't exactly his ideal girl. He likes the ones like Darcy - the angry good girls with the darker side that's aching to break free – and he knows Mia has already broken (free). He likes pulling the dark side out of them, and Darcy is no exception.

"What the hell do you want from me?" He says loudly. The halls are cleared; all he can hear is the echo of his frustration and her labored breathing.

She glares at him. "I want you to say what you mean."

He blinks at her. (You asked for it.)

"Okay, fine. I think you're a scared little girl who's too freaked out by her own dreams to admit she has bigger things she wants to do than just go to church and do what she's told. I think you believe everything you hear about me-"

"Yeah, because it's true!"

"Shut up! I'm not finished! You believe everything you hear because you're too afraid that if you hope for something better that it'll turn out to be a lie and you'll get hurt. You shut yourself up inside your head with your stupid beliefs and your stupid ideals because you know that if you let yourself hope or do what you want you'll get _hurt_. You're fucking _scared_."

He breathes heavily and she stares at him, wide-eyed.

"You won't let me in because you think I'll just fuck you over. But I won't, okay?"

She looks like a deer in headlights and he thinks he's struck home.

He sighs.

"I'm sorry," he offers. She shakes her head and bites her lip.

"It's just who you are, Peter. You're just doing what I told you to do," she says quietly. He narrows his eyes. An apology, and all he gets is-

"Fuck you, Darcy. _Fuck you_ for always making me feel bad about saying what I mean."

She shakes her head and leaves the school so fast he doesn't even know how to react.

* * *

**VI : **Holding your scarred heart in hand

* * *

Darcy ran away. She doesn't leave a note or anything, and instead takes a cab and escapes to a cheap motel where she spends half of her meager savings on a room with shitty orange carpet and no cable. She gets her hands on a fake ID she used to frequent and hits up club after club, drinking and drinking until she forgets anybody named Peter or Mia or Darcy. She starts to exhaust somewhere around four in the morning and calls another cab back to the motel room, and she passes out on the bed with her skirt and stilettos still on.

When she wakes up her head is throbbing and the sunlight is warning her that it's a new day – and people are probably missing her. So she takes a shower and washes her face and brushes her teeth and hair, and walks down the street in her crazy (slutty) outfit to buy new clothes at a department store. She ends up with black sweats and a blue tank top.

She calls up the same cabdriver (who by now remembers her face and knows her whole life story, thanks to her drunken taxicab confessions the previous night) and catches a ride to Peter's. She's thinking about breaking up (didn't they already?) or giving him another piece of her mind, but she's just so…tired. She knows he was right (she's just too proud).

She pays the driver and sneaks up to Peter's window. She peers inside and finds him still asleep in a gray t-shirt she bought him. Her heart clenches and she quietly slides open the window (oddly unlocked) and crawls in.

He doesn't budge, and she stands to admire his face in the sunlight for a minute. The way it sparkles in his hair and plays over the smooth curves of his jaw and lips turned slightly downwards – a bad dream – and she knows that she couldn't leave him if she tried.

She slips out of her shoes and pants and into his bed. He shifts unconsciously to make room for her and she starts to cry.

When he wakes up his eyes focus in on her and he jumps. She buries her face in his neck before he has a chance to say anything and breathes him in so deeply her whole chest expands with the greatness of it. He puts an arm around her waist and pulls her closer.

"I'll take this as you admitting I was right," he mumbles into her still-damp hair. She shakes with frustration and nods curtly and he holds her tighter.

She just wants him to leave her be (forever) and let her rest (in pieces), but when did he ever do what she asked?

And let's face it – she needs him so badly by now that until something tips the scales, she's his. And he (most likely) knows that.

**

* * *

**

**VII : **I'll take you for who you are if you take me for everything

* * *

An hour later they're still lying in his bed with their legs entangled and Peter's hand has drifted down to her hip.

She's tired as hell and looks like it too, and he can't help but wonder where she _slept_ last night. Her hair smells like hotel shampoo and he misses the regular fruity scent – but he really can't complain when she's lying in his bed half naked.

He knows he really messed up this time.

She only came back because she was so desperate for him, but what happens when that's gone? He needs her so badly that he couldn't leave her or forget her if he tried. She's permanent in his eyes, and in hers he's a boy toy who she'll leave when she gets the balls.

She's dozing on his chest and he's breaking inside (not that he'll ever admit it) and his fingers brush through her chestnut hair so lightly it feels like silk. He can barely feel much of anything except her, nowadays. He wants her for everything and she wants nothing to do with him. (How typical of his luck.)

"I'm sorry," he whispers solemnly. "I'm so sorry. You're stuck with me…"

But she doesn't hear; she's already asleep.

**

* * *

**

**VIII : **I have the will to breathe you in while I can; however long you stay is all that I am

* * *

By the time summer arrives they're back to being knee deep within each other. They're back in the park (minus the parka) and she's leaning against a tree as he kisses her gently. His hands are pressing into the bark, pressing into the soft cotton of her shirt, her hair – never mind that they're in public. Peter has no problem letting the world know he's getting up on Darcy (or the implications it gives about his feelings towards her).

Because he loves her.

It's subtle and not at all obvious if you don't look close enough, but it's visible in the hesitation before he looks away or leaves her or the soft way he touches her. It's obvious in the way he knows her quirks and loves her through every one of them (because she's bossy and self-righteous and mostly wrong, but he has no problem letting her win once in a while).

She's smiling up at him and Darcy Edwards is his whole world. He prays she'll never leave the sanctity of his arms, that she'll proclaim him her eternal place of worship, but the likelihood is slim. It's only a matter of time until she comes to her senses and moves on.

It's the longest he's ever been in a 'relationship' (they've never officially declared themselves together, but it's _so_ obvious) and the streak has to break eventually, even though he sometimes holds her so tight she has to remind him to let her breathe.

She gets risky sometimes when her parents aren't home (it's so hot) and she tells him to spend the night (he tells his mom he's staying at a friends) and they lie in her bed and stare out the window at the stars. They generally fall asleep around dawn and when they wake up she makes him chocolate chip pancakes and he just _loves_ her.

She'll smile and flip the pancakes and flip her hair and dance in her underwear and his t-shirt and have no idea, no idea at all.

* * *

**IX : **Wrong or right, black or white, if I close my eyes: it's all the same

* * *

She knows exactly what he sees when he looks at her. He looks at her hungrily like he's never going to get enough and he holds her and drinks her in and takes and takes until she's dry, parched, and the only way to quench it is to take some back. Darcy has become desperate to keep him around – because letting him go means the end of the best year of her life. Without him, there would be no hot chocolates or late nights or park runs. She's just Darcy and he's just Peter, and there is no in between or resting ground. (It's constant and painful and her life.) They're on their own.

And she's not okay with that.

He's become her safe place and her confidant and her best friend, and somewhere in between he became her lover while still managing to respect her wish of abstinence. She sometimes looks at him and feels so full of love and life that she has to find an excuse to get them to a place where they can just _be_.

She knows it's wrong and it'll only end with her hurt and him leaving but she can't stop herself. It's too much to handle but she can't let it go and she's going to drown in it. The little semblance of control she had before is completely gone; he has every part of her wrapped around his little finger.

She's hoping that one day she'll get the nerve to leave for good, but for now all she can do is hold her breath.

--

Their senior year starts off with another fight. They're walking to his car (he finally, _finally_ got a license – and it's legal) after spirit squad practice and he's bitching about some guy or another at tryouts.

"Don't tell me you didn't see the look on his face when he put you up. It was so obvious he was getting something sick from grabbing your ass."

Darcy sighs. "Peter, how could I have seen his face when my back was against him?" He gives her a 'duh' look. "I didn't mean it like that! You know how it has to be when you're going up in a stunt," she trails off. "Nothing was up, nothing was happening, I only…I care about you and you know it. So stop being so jealous." She finishes with a smile and a little kiss on his nose.

He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. "You didn't see the way he was trying to look down your shirt over your shoulder…"

She freezes with the car door halfway open and turns to look at him. "_What?!"_

He chuckles and smirks. "I know, right? I should have thought of it!"

--

It's a month later on one of those nights where her parents aren't home and he's with her upstairs. His hands are rubbing over her bare stomach and she's watching his face carefully as he stares mindlessly at the ceiling.

"Your skin is so soft," he mumbles. She smiles beautifully, but he doesn't see. He flattens his palm out so it stretches across the length of her middle. "And smooth," he continues. She takes a breath and he turns to look at her, finally. He presses his body up against hers and the skin on skin contact makes her shiver. His hand has shifted to rest on the lowest part of her back and is drifting lower still.

"Why thank you, Peter. You aren't so bad yourself," she teases lightly. A grin stretches easily over his face and he leans in to kiss her so deeply she feels it in her toes. (He always wants more.)

"You would know, wouldn't you babe?" His fingers tickle over her skin, and-

And something inside of her snaps, suddenly.

Suddenly his hand no longer feels comforting but a warning, and his fingers drifting over her skin feel like ice. She freezes up and starts to panic as his lips reach her temple. She's so – she's so _ashamed_. How could she let herself be like this? She's practically naked in front of him, and with a sudden revolting bout of sickness she realizes she hasn't worn her abstinence ring in two days. She gulps and bites the inside of her cheek as she lightly pulls out of Peter's grasp.

He looks at her oddly. "What's wrong, Darce?"

She wants to throw up at the use of the nickname. Instead, she wraps herself so tightly in her blanket that she can barely feel anything.

"I'm just a little cold," she whispers. (But really, she's reached the point of no return. The point of leaving.)

--

The next week at school, she still is acting funny and it's becoming a tad bit obvious to him. He's worried about her – is it school, family, him? He has no idea. She hasn't been saying much of anything to him lately.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he's been getting…bad vibes from her. The kind that tell him she might just breakup with him. (Were they even in a 'relationship' to begin with?) His heart aches every time he sees her and she hasn't worn his favorite blue tank top in weeks. He's trying his hardest not to push her, or make her uncomfortable, but some things just…happen. He's so sick with worry about what's going on with her that when she even opens her mouth he can't help but say something nasty to protect himself. (But that doesn't give her a good impression, either, does it?)

And then one day everything comes crashing down upon him, just like he knew it all would.

It starts in Media Studies, which yes, they are still stuck in. She doesn't say anything to him at all, which is weird, because usually she'll IM him something cute or funny, or maybe she'll give him a meaningful look – but today…nothing.

The bell rings and they exit the classroom. He waits for her (he's always waiting) and when she exits in a hurry, he grabs her arm.

"Can we talk?" he says seriously. Her big brown eyes stare at him nervously and she nods jerkily.

She clears her throat. "What's up?"

"Is everything okay? You've been acting kind of strange."

She sucks in a breath. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He gives her the 'you're shitting me' look. "Don't lie to me, Darce. I know something's up."

"Don't call me that," she whispers.

His insides freeze. "What do you mean, don't call you that? I always call you Darce. It's your nickname," he says in a hurry. (Anything but this, he's about to choke and die on the inside, just don't leave him-)

"I mean don't call me that, okay?"

The silence looms over them like a storm cloud and nothing is ever going to be the same, ever again. (Never.)

"I don't think I can continue…this…with you, anymore. It's just not…" (And just like that, he's gone. She's taken all of him.) "I don't feel the same anymore," she finishes in a whisper.

He stares at her for a minute just soaking it in. She's done. He loves her, and she's…what did he do?

(But Peter's never been one to show dismay or upset or any emotion other than pride, really, so what else can he do besides cork up his sadness and frustration and save it for later? It's just the way he is – and no amount of time with Darcy Edwards or any girl will ever change him. It's just the way he is.)

But that's no excuse.

He takes a step back and gives her the most casual look he can muster. "It's chill, I understand. Other fish in the sea and all that, I know. Why don't you run along and play now, Darcy?"

She glares for a minute, but her face softens and he swears he can see the most fleeting glance of requited love – and then it's gone. She turns her back and walks away (again) and he's falling, falling, falling, until he hits his knees and he's breaking apart (breaking down) and nobody can see (nobody except God) how much he's hurting (it's like death). And he ceases to be Peter Stone.

**

* * *

**

**Epilogue :** I'll close my eyes - it's all the same

* * *

It's nearing May and he still can't forget about her. She's moved on, of course; and maybe he's messed around with Mia (and maybe Riley fucked with him a little). He's good at putting on a show, because Mia and him had a nice relationship, but it's nowhere close to The Dot and hot chocolate and watching the stars, but it's something (a distraction). They've somehow managed to retain the twisted little friendship they had before (sort of) and sometimes she'll give him a sly little smile or wink at him or wave. (Who the fuck _does_ that?)

The idea of some other guy's hands on her bare skin makes him want to punch a locker or something, but he can't really do anything about it, so…

He's a little bit stuck, here. He watches her hips sway down the hallway and she flips her hair (still) and he makes sure his hookups get around so she'll hear, but he knows that just proves what she thought he'd do, (it's not like he can help himself), only she thought he'd hookup with them when he was still with her (which is a lie). The girls he gets with are just wasted time.

(And Mia's still a baby mama.)

He misses her, and sometimes he'd do anything to win her over again, but it's just…not going to happen.

So he watches and boils in his own blood, waiting for somebody like Darcy Edwards to come along and save his skin, but there is nobody.

He's lost (stuck) and only she (the love of his life) can save him, but she's more likely to shoot him with a gun than help him out of this twist.

And so it went.


End file.
